


Swiss System

by kimbleefucker (hihowareya)



Series: Checkmate [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Gen, getting to knoooow yooouuu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 02:05:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14885577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hihowareya/pseuds/kimbleefucker
Summary: Swiss System: A system of pairing tournaments whereby players are paired against opponents who are doing about as well as they are. Wherever possible, players get about an equal number of games with Black and White, and will not play the same opponent twice; Roy and Solf are assigned guard duty the evening following their dispute.





	Swiss System

**Author's Note:**

> Kimblee likes to hear himself talk

Pulling his rifle from it's rack in his tent, Roy Mustang sighed heavily in contempt for the night to come. He should have known better. Kimblee was only goading him, right? He shouldn't have lunged for him, no matter what he said. But Hawkeye looked so frightened at his words alone, he couldn't just sit there and let him prattle on. Still, Kimblee hadn't seemed at all bothered by Roy's grip on his collar, or how close to getting punched in the face he was. The same couldn't be said of the patrolling general, who punished them both by assigning them to overnight guard duty, together. 

In Roy's opinion, the guard duty wasn't the punishment- spending time with Kimblee was. 

The sun hung low in the sky over Ishval and the orange glow cast along the rubble around them made the hair on the major's neck stand; why had they been tasked with causing so much destruction? The question was rhetorical, and Kimblee's response to him earlier echoed in his mind: “because that's the job we were given to do, that's what we signed up for.”

Logically, he was right. Roy couldn't argue with anything he said, and that angered him even more. The fact that Solf J. Kimblee was correct, and he truly was naive not to see it. 

As he approached the outskirts of their camp to stand guard, he noticed his guard partner was already there. Ever the punctual one, Kimblee stood with his rifle over his shoulder, idly observing the destroyed town beneath the cliff fall their post overlooked. At Roy's approach, he turned to acknowledge him, giving one of his friendly smiles. “Good evening, Major Mustang. Glad to be working with you tonight.” He'd extended a tattooed palm to Roy, who knew the destruction it could cause and shook it anyway, almost wishing the Crimson Lotus would blow his hand off and send him home.

“Yeah.” Was all he could offer in response, he couldn't lie and say he was glad to be working with Kimblee. He let go of the fellow alchemist's hand (how was it so cold in this temperature?) and walked over to the small bit of rubble piled up for them to sit on. With the amount of lives Kimblee took only just today, it was sure to be an uneventful evening, but long nonetheless. He figured he'd better set some ground rules, while he could. “Let's get one thing straight, neither of us want to be here. We're both more than capable enough to do more serious work. This is a punishment, not time to hang out. I have no intention of acquainting myself further with you, Kimblee.” Roy's lack of title when speaking to his equally ranked officer struck the other as impolite, but he would disregard it for now.

“Why, Major Mustang, surely I can't be that terrible of company.” Kimblee stalked over to him and sat beside him. He pulled one knee up to his chest, laced his hands over top, and rest his chin on them. “I apologize to have so deeply offended you earlier.” His words were earnest but his tone was nonchalant, and Roy could tell this would be a very long night.

“I'm not the one you should be apologizing to.” Truly Roy didn't fight for himself, but for Hawkeye's sake. She was the most upset by it, she was the most disturbed by Kimblee's words. And yet, Roy also found himself a bit... jealous? Not long after that argument, the sniper did approach him and say she couldn't deny what Kimblee said, and she felt so upset with herself that he was right. The fact that this man had made her acknowledge something and feel that guilt, was not something that sat well with the Flame alchemist. 

Kimblee seemed aware who Roy was referring to, and looked away wistfully. “The woman, then.” He thought aloud. 

“That's right. Whether or not what you said is true, this isn't the time to say it. Just because you're cold hearted enough to take lives so easily... doesn't mean it comes as naturally to the rest of us.”

“Cold hearted, eh...” Kimblee echoed Roy's words thoughtfully. For once Roy thought perhaps he offended him, and against his better judgment considered taking his words back, but he would be lying if he said he didn't feel Kimblee was every bit as cold hearted as he was perceived “Perhaps you're right, maybe I am cold hearted. But, it does make me a rather efficient weapon in our situation. It seems being cold hearted is exactly the trait our military finds valuable.” 

God, he really did like to hear himself talk. The sun was beyond the horizon now and dusk had settled in. There was silence for a while, and Roy was thankful, until Kimblee spoke again. “Dusk is my favorite time of day. What's yours?” How arbitrary. He was just making polite conversation, and yet it made Roy angry. Everything he did made him mad. 

But that sounded more like a personal problem, the more he rolled the idea over in his head. For just this evening, he would humor this man, and see if perhaps they had some common ground. 

“Late afternoon. I like the sun to be high. There's something optimistic about it.” 

“Hm, how interesting. What's your opinion on astrology?” That sure came out of nowhere. Kimblee was an alchemist as well, so he should be just as critical of made up sciences as any alchemist, but Roy would be lying if he said he didn't check his sign in the paper every day. Just out of curiosity of course. 

“It's foolish, and favored by young girls. But I do know my sign, if that's what you're going to ask next. I'm a Leo.”

“I see! How thoughtful of you. I don't particularly subscribe to it, but it is interesting. August, I presume?”

“That's right.” 

There was a long silence before Roy realized that he had given Kimblee information about himself without asking for anything in return. Equivalent exchange and all, he would learn this man's star sign.

“And yours?”

Kimblee laughed lowly at this, though it sounded somewhat genuine. 

“I'd like to know what you think, how you perceive me.” It was painfully like him to do this. It was so very Kimblee to request information and give nothing in return. Roy unfortunately knew very little about astrology other than some basics so his guess was as good as anyone elses. He pondered a moment and gave a sidewards glance to Kimblee's hands still rested on his knee. Two arrays, huh...

“Gemini...” Roy guessed idly.

“Hm, that's wrong, but nice try. You're in the correct range. For your efforts I'll reward you and let you know that I'm a Cancer.” Roy had to stop himself from making a bad joke and accusing him of actually being cancerous, and finally settled on a simple 'I see'.  
“You know in Xing, they have their own zodiac, but it's based on the year rather than the month.” Was Roy really going to come out of this experience with only updated knowledge on global astrology? He guessed there were worse outcomes.

“No, I didn't know that... do you know them?” He was a bit curious. He'd heard women liked astrology, and if it was something he could potentially use on his plentiful dates, he wouldn't turn that down.

“I do, but I'll need to know the year you were born.” So there was the monkey's paw, Kimblee was going to know more about Roy than he really needed to, and Roy cursed himself for being so curious. A birth date though shouldn't be too incriminating.

“1885. August 16th. Do you need my blood type and shoe size too, or of have you gotten what you needed?” Kimblee turned to look at him and feigned surprise, then smiled. 

“No, that should suffice. 1885 is the year of the rooster. How appropriate, in some ways they're likened to phoenix... bird of flames and all that. Coincidentally, you're one year older than myself.” Roy hadn't realized they were so close in age and almost felt happy to be the older, if only by a year. That's at least one year of superiority he had over this snarky man. 

“What about you, are you going to make me guess again? Because I don't know any of them enough to-”

“Dog. My year is the dog.” Roy was taken back a bit that he was interrupted and upon recovering thought is words over. 

“I see.” There was another long silence. The sun had completed disappeared and the sky was dark. Roy stood up and walked around to Kimblee's opposite and sat back down. This seat was small enough that their backs touched and it made Roy's skin crawl; as if he could catch whatever it was that made Kimblee so uncanny simply by resting against him this way. Again he felt a small pang of guilt. Kimblee was perfectly docile here, not going out of his way to harm anyone or anything, perhaps Roy misjudged him? Maybe he wasn't the man Roy thought he was? He contemplated for a while and investigated further. “So... do you like dogs?” 

“I'm actually more of a cat person myself... I appreciate how self sustainable they are. They are independent, and intelligent.” Roy was almost personally offended but unsurprised by Kimblee's answer. If Roy looked hard enough, the Crimson Alchemist reminded him of a cat. Always perched somewhere staring harmlessly, seemingly docile and inattentive, maybe even affectionate occasionally. But seemingly without warning, the likelihood of getting scratched seemed fairly high. The idea of Kimblee as a small, harmless cat eased him. “I don't mind dogs however.” The addendum to his statement pulled Roy from his imagination. No, he was not a domestic cat. He was much more akin to a panther. The way he would skulk around, his sharp movements and reflexes, and his utter brutality. 

“I could have predicted that.” Roy expected a snarky retort, but got none. 

An hour or so passed and it was the dead of night, and Roy forgot how cold it was outside their tents in the desert evening. He considered making a small fire, but that would really make their position as guards rather compromised. Not that he needed it, he was rather accustomed to the cold and didn't mind it. The same couldn't be said of his companion however. A chill ran up the Crimson Lotus' spine and Roy felt it in his. 

“I take it you're cold then.” He stated matter of factly. 

“Ah, you could tell then? I'm not exactly accustomed to this weather... I must not eat enough iron.” Roy could hear the thrum of his fingers on the rock they sat atop. “When I'd heard we would be stationed in the desert, I was a bit happy about that. At least during the daytime, it's rather nice. My worst fear was being stationed in Briggs.” Roy smirked at the mental image of Kimblee in Briggs, far too cold for his liking, under the harsh command of their respective Iron Wall. 

“Yeah... I don't think I could handle that either. Not just the weather, but the officials...”

“Yes, I've heard she's rather something to behold.” Kimblee considered for a moment before asking Roy, “What is your opinion of Major Armstrong?” Roy perked up at this. 

“Olivier's brother?”

“Yes, our Strong Arm alchemist.” 

“My opinion of him... he's quite powerful, if a bit eccentric. He has a lot of political pull given his family, so a good ally to have. Someone I would very much like to work beside.”

“But here?” 

“I don't understand your meaning...” Kimblee shifted slightly and Roy felt him move and was thankful when he didn't turn to face him. 

“It's true, he may be a powerful alchemist, and he may have political pull, and he may be the most reliable ally there is... but on this battlefield, perhaps none of that matters.” Roy's heart sank as their conversation drifted back to the war. And just when he thought they were acclimating to one another. “Remember how earlier, you had said I was “cold hearted”?” 

“...yes, I do remember.”

“As I said, whether or not that's true...” It is. “... that just means that I'm more suited to this kind of work. If I'm cold hearted,” you are “then the reverse would be true of Armstrong. Despite his strength, his values, everything that makes him a great man... it does make him rather ineffective here, wouldn't you say?”

Roy considered his words for a moment. Logically, yes he was right. But did he want to give Kimblee the satisfaction of knowing that? Not really. Still he didn't want another night of this so he bit his tongue as best he could and said only “I suppose.”

“Objectively speaking though... I don't believe he is weak.” At that Roy's attention returned to Kimblee.

“Go on.”

“Personally, I don't believe being warm hearted or cold hearted is necessarily the determinant of one's strength. Rather, the conviction yielded by that heart. Whether or not you are kind or cruel, your dedication to your disposition is truly what grants a person strength.” If Roy didn't know better, he would think Kimblee was complimenting Armstrong. He couldn't find fault in what he was saying either. “For what its worth,” He began “my words to you earlier weren't meant to incite you. I simply believed if you could see things from my perspective, this work might not be so hard on you...” 

Roy sighed. It's true he didn't feel a necessarily malicious intent from Kimblee earlier, and there was no secret his views and feelings were just a different standard than others, but was Roy really ready to allow himself to accept him? To accept this man who delighted in the destruction of others' lives to be his ally? His mind turned these ideas over and over for what felt like forever. “I see.” Was all he could offer Kimblee in response for now. 

The night seemed to move at a decent pace after that. Neither of them said much, the occasional comment about current events back home. Little by little, they learned a bit about one another. Roy told Kimblee small details of his life only, and thus that is all he learned in return. He learned that the Crimson Lotus alchemist wasn't a fan of citrus, that his family worked in textiles, that before being sent to the war, he split up with a girlfriend and wasn't terribly broken up about it; he had no expectation for her or anyone else to build their life around him. Roy learned that Solf J. Kimblee was indeed human, like him and everyone else here. And that fact made him comforted and scared. If he truly was a human, just a normal human, how could he possibly feel so little for killing others? Could Roy become that way too? Would Roy become that way too? He just didn't know. 

By the time morning came, both of them were a little worse for ware, and reluctant to go about the rest of the day without sleep. As they prepared to part ways, Kimblee was approached by a lower rank officer requesting his presence with General Gran, saying they had something for him to help aid them in their mission and get everyone home quicker. As he turned to leave Roy stopped him. “Wait-” Kimblee turned to Roy, his tired eyes asking what the Flame needed with him. “What is it that you tell yourself... to make being here easier every day?” To that Kimblee had no hesitation, a chesire-esque smile spreading across his face.

“It's just a job.” He said, and turned and left towards his request, leaving Roy standing there to ponder that sentence.


End file.
